“Like I said, I’m your brother.”

I can’t help but tighten the line of my lips at the obvious fact, my head still rioting with the idea that there could be anyone else other than Kid. This young, ember-bellied buffoon (if he had told me his name, it’s already slipped from my mind) might just be tied to me by blood, but what has he done to earn the right of being family? Blood only runs so deep in my opinion. Sure, it might be the last, fortifying knot in the threads of a relationship, but it certainly isn’t everything (but Kid is my everything—I need to find him, I need to feel him again; I need him).

I huff an exhale from my nostrils when the boy mentions ‘the Throat,’ yellow eyes narrowing for half a second while a string of thoughts run through my mind. When he had found me in the Threshold, I think Volterra had mentioned something about a Throat. Maybe it does mean something. However, the possibility of brother living in a herd is pretty bizarre to me. Ma had always taught us about their corruption and their folly and their uselessness, ever infested with the ghastly mutants that ravage Helovia. All the same, I’m willing to try just about anything at this point (including halfway trusting the word of a hybrid).

The messy length of my tail whips once around my hips as I nod to myself, a sneer of amusement creeping over my lips when the beautiful one—Astarot, I learn—chimes in with his own opinion. “You’re not wrong,” I snicker, flaunting arrogance in my voice. I’m what you would call an open book. There’s too much effort in trying to hide your feelings—and besides, it’s much more fun to shove them in people’s faces!

“THIEVES!”

The tree’s syrupy voice booms unexpectedly through my bones, and I jump, pinning my ears as my lips twist into a snarl. Suddenly we aren’t alone—suddenly we’re attacked. There are dozens of little critters swarming the stumps that the tree-thing had created, numerous tiny hands and greedy paws snatching the food that the rest of us had already gathered. “Oh hell no!” I snap with all the attitude of a moody teenager, already gunning for a fight. Leaping into a half-rear, I lunge towards the nearest little pest, slamming my body down as forcefully as I can manage; at the same time that my hooves smash to the ground, a wall of vines erupts on either side of me.

The thorny vines writhe into the air, trembling furiously before reaching for the horde of varmints. Some snap at the air, while others lunge downwards, all mirroring the ferocity that flares in my eyes. I cackle with a dangerous glee, reveling at the fear in the little animals’ eyes, and fueled by the boldness in others. The last thing I expect is for the ember-bellied colt to burst into a dragon. My eyes grow wide with wonder at the site, promptly deciding that I like my brother much, much better this way. “Scamper away, varmints!” I crow with renewed vigor, lunging at the little pests again.


notes; Uses her magic to build a wall of thorny vines, which aim to attack the critters, and she lunges at them too. Interacts with @Astarot and @Tyrath
“Speech.”
Seeking a dragon with either fire breath or shock breath! (I can't decide at this moment ;-;)
No prior refusals.

Light the fuse and burn it up

take the path that leads to nowhere.